


do you like it?

by ganymede_elegy



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganymede_elegy/pseuds/ganymede_elegy
Summary: He isn't sure what's happening.He knows he came home from work, had called out to her only to have her call back from the bedroom, and now he's here and she's wearing that.She's standing in the middle of the bedroom with the lights out and candles lit, in nothing but... he isn't sure how to categorize it, all black lace and sheer fabric and straps and gods he's about to lose his shit.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955872
Comments: 28
Kudos: 169
Collections: Jonsa Autumn Drabbles 2020





	do you like it?

**Author's Note:**

> for the Tumblr drabble event, prompt: spicy

He isn't sure what's happening.

He knows he came home from work, had called out to her only to have her call back from the bedroom, and now he's _here_ and she's wearing _that_.

She's standing in the middle of the bedroom with the lights out and candles lit, in nothing but... he isn't sure how to categorize it, all black lace and sheer fabric and straps and _gods_ he's about to lose his shit.

“What?” he says dumbly, standing in the doorway to their bedroom.

When he doesn't say anything else, her hands clasp in front of her and she starts picking at her cuticles, like she always does when she's nervous. “Do you like it?”

_Like it._

Does he _like it?_

He can barely fucking think. But this is... not now, not today.

“Sans, what are you doing?”

Her face falls and he realizes this was absolutely the wrong thing to say. “I thought...” she starts, voice wavering, and his heart slams against his ribs. “I heard you on the phone the other day. You said... you wished things were _spicier_.”

It takes what feels like a lifetime for him to process this. “When I was talking to Robb?” he manages to get out and she nods. “You thought I was talking to your brother... about our sex life?” Her eyes go wide as it seems to dawn on her. “I was talking about that chili you made, I didn't have the heart to tell you it was bland cause I know how unsure you are about your cooking.”

There's a lot of things Sansa's unsure about – years with Joffrey had destroyed her confidence and she's a lot better than she used to be, but there are some things she still has doubts about. Her cooking. Her body. Sex. It's not often, but he knows sometimes, in her darker moments, she questions why he wants her, why he's with her (though he's told her, again and again, that he's _always_ wanted her, that he always will).

If this were any other night, he'd happily spend _hours_ convincing her that he loves her just the way she is (but also that he _really does_ like that outfit). If this were any other night...

“Stannis,” he grits out, hand clenched around the doorframe. She jerks back like she's been struck, confusion twisting her features. “Tonight's the dinner with him. He's in the fucking living room.” He feels like his suit tie is going to choke him.

“Oh,” she says, and then “ _oh_.” Her hands come up to cover herself like Stannis is standing right behind him instead of downstairs. “I forgot!”

“Just... the food will be here in a few minutes, I ordered in the car. I have to...” he forces himself to back out of the doorway and close the door behind him and he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down (the idea that his boss and his boss's wife are currently sitting in the living room waiting for him, well, that helps keep certain things under control).

The food arrives and Sansa comes downstairs, calm and cool and collected, wearing a modest blouse and skirt. Through dinner she talks and laughs and somehow manages to charm Stannis (though not Selys, Jon isn't sure _anyone_ can charm her).

He thinks he's fine, this is going well, promotion in the bag, until he's just bringing a forkful of chicken up to his mouth and he catches Sansa's eye across the table. She gives a small, knowing smile and slowly brings her hand up to adjust the collar of her blouse and moves it just enough that he catches a glimpse of a black lace strap and he nearly chokes on his dinner.

“Spicy,” he coughs when Stannis frowns at him and he does not miss the smirk on Sansa's face that she tries to hide behind her wine glass.


End file.
